


Console Me

by Empress_Of_Edenia



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, F/M, Flashbacks, Married Couple, Memory Loss, Older!Paladins, Post-Canon, middle age!Shidge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-11
Updated: 2017-11-11
Packaged: 2019-01-31 17:38:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12687024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Empress_Of_Edenia/pseuds/Empress_Of_Edenia
Summary: It's a typical day in the Shirogane household, until an unexpected flashback causes Shiro to recall something very special to him and his wife.





	Console Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ninja_Librarian](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ninja_Librarian/gifts).



“Ugh, this sucks,” the little girl grumbled. “Dad! Can you come in here for a second?”

“Hiyori, mind your language,” Shiro told her as he entered her room. Though deep down, he knew that his youngest child said far worse things outside of the house. Shiro would have to have a talk with a certain someone, regarding that problem. For now, though, he would tackle this one. “What’s bothering you?”

Hiyori pointed to the gaming console. “The cables won’t fit and the controller won’t bind to the adapter. I followed the instructions a million times, but…”

Shiro knelt beside her on the floor, looking at said cables. Although this area of expertise was more her mother’s, he could see that one cable in particular wouldn’t possibly fit into the HDMI on her TV. Too large, he realized while holding it in his hand. He’d been in a tech store just the other day, too. He _knew_ that errand list ought to have been longer. “We should have smaller cables around here somewhere.” Shiro found a replacement after rummaging around his son’s room. Discarded, once the boy tired of an old system and forgot all about it. “Try this one.”

She did just that, a smile of satisfaction spreading on her mouth. “Fits like a glove.”

“Alright, good. Now let’s see what the deal is with Mr. Adapter,” he said. They were within range of the controller’s sight, judging by the manual. He read over the second option in the troubleshooting section. She likely tried it already, but it couldn’t hurt to do so again. His thumb pressed down on the bind button, the gears in his artificial digit whirring in the silence. Both of them sat there, eyes glued to the LED lights as they waited for a vital sign. He released the button and his breath when nothing happened.

Hiyori slouched over it in defeat. “Dang it.”

“We’re not down for the count yet, kiddo,” Shiro reassured her. They had a third option to try, probably their best bet. He unplugged the adapter, then went to shut it down so that he could reboot it. No sooner had he laid his hand atop the console did Shiro zone out. With the catastrophic nature of his episodes, there was no telling where they would take him. ‘Oh god,’ he silently pleaded, ‘anywhere but prison again…’

On the contrary, this flashback seemed rather pleasant. He was no longer a fifty-one-year-old father of two, but instead a teenager. He couldn’t have been more than fourteen. He was sitting in his neighbor’s living room. It always gladdened him that his best friend lived just a bike ride away. Yes, his best friend Matt and Matt’s little sister, Katie. All three were gathered around the television, near a gaming system not unlike his daughter’s. What they had been playing, he didn’t exactly remember, nor did the flashback clarify. Some kind of FPS, it seemed. Neither sibling really pegged him for much of a gamer, but once Katie had heard, she immediately insisted that Matt invite him over right after school. No exceptions.

“Watch out, dude,” he’d warned Shiro ahead of time. “She’s claimed like, a billion victims already. She’s ruthless, I swear.”

He hadn’t been kidding, either. Every disk they popped in, every level they played, Katie scored at least ten more points than both of them combined. Or killed them, when they weren’t focusing hard enough. Despite all of this pressure, Shiro recalled getting his fair share of payback that day. In the place of Matt’s fallen character, Shiro would avenge him and get a last-minute shot at hers. While his score gradually rose up to glance at Katie’s, it could never max out the screen like hers did. She never gave him too much grief for it. She gloated, sure, but never outright mocked him. 

“You’re not lame or anything. And you suck less than most of the kids who tried to beat me before,” Katie told Shiro with a smile.   


Even so, Shiro let Matt have a few extra turns in his stead. It gave him ample time to plan his comeback and figure out her weaknesses. Alas, she didn’t seem to have too many. Or maybe she was taking greater care not to mess up because she knew he was watching her. It hadn’t bothered him all that much. Shiro would figure out some way to catch up to speed with Katie, one way or another. In the meantime, he let himself get lost in the rush of the Holts’ competitive streak. He wanted the both of them to win, but was secretly devoting most of his attention to Katie. He had stumbled through most of his adolescence thinking the world of her. Not because she supposedly wasn’t like other girls - whatever that meant - but because was cooler than most kids, in general. Witnessing her prowess in person only added to his admiration. Katie trumped Matt regardless of what he threw at her. Her battle strategies like those of a general and with the endurance, to boot. While Matt looked about ready to tap out, Katie was loading in yet another game for the chance to suplex him once more.   


“Aw, come on. You and Shiro won all of the good games,” he whined, reaching for the plate of pizza rolls and taking a couple.   


She flashed him a mischievous, lip-curling grin: a Holt signature. “Had enough? Well, too bad! ‘Cuz we’re all gonna play this one.” Katie then pulled out the jewel case for it.   


The case instantly caught Shiro’s eye. One of his favorite multiplayer titles, back in those days. Such colorful, vibrant graphics this kart racer had. Who could possibly turn down a session of that? Shiro sat up a little straighter in his seat on their sofa, wondering who would go first. Almost hoping that he would, in spite of what was at stake.   


Matt looked the case over. “Hmm… _Overdrift: Grand Prix 7_. Sure, alright. I’ll play. Just don’t run me off the road and into three sand dunes. Again.”   


“I make no promises,” Katie replied, “besides, it’s not my fault you left yourself open for a pink shell.”   


“You blew my motorcycle to pieces,” he reminded her.   


“Yup, sure did.” Not a hint of remorse was evident in her voice.   


Shiro had no real comment for any of this. He only offered an “oh, bummer, man” to Matt. Though he hid his grin behind a glass of soda. She really did have a serious victory lust. And she was just getting started. As he’d wanted, Shiro was ushered off of the couch to play against her. The first four tracks were a tie between them, with both receiving gold trophies. The Turtle and Sundae Cups, however, all belonged to him. No one could quite believe it when the umpteenth win had gone to Shiro, while Katie lagged behind in second and third place. Yet the screen couldn’t lie.   


“Just what kind of cheat codes are you using, anyway?” She asked with a suspicious tone.   


“I practice at home a lot,” was all he had responded with.   


“Whatever,” she’d grumbled back.   


Shiro remembered feeling guilty over his skills, that day. Fearing he’d shown off too much and that she was every bit as disinterested in him as she was with inferior gamers. Well if so, Katie never showed it. Rather, his winning streak seemed to have intrigued her. Since she insisted that they compete in the Frog, Leaf, Chestnut, Ocean and All-star Cups afterward. Leaving Matt in charge of feeding her any remaining pizza rolls they weren’t going to finish. Her brother still got to join in on the fun too, of course. Though it didn’t last for very long. Katie beat him without so much as a sweat, in two tracks’ time. Eventually, he forfeited all of his turns to Shiro and took his place on the couch. Both boys assumed it was just a ploy to get Shiro back onto the floor with her. Her own Katie sort of way of saying, ‘I like you.’ Or so he had hoped.   


Not that Shiro really minded. Any time spent with her was well worth it, especially if he could impress her. He even pulled off a few tricks whenever they drove over hills, ramps and any hang glider jumps. Her slack-jawed expression reflected in the screen was priceless. “Eyes on the road, Katie,” he recalled teasing her with while soaring above her mascot’s head.   


“I’m focusing just fine, thank you!” She retorted, although she was clearly smiling as she said it. Trying to ignore the fact that she’d almost crashed into a lake of cartoony piranhas.   


Eventually, there were only three cups left. Two of which he’d lost to Katie. He did everything in his power to quell his nerves, to rebuild his confidence again. When the stats showed up onscreen, Katie’s two extra victories had bumped her score up from seventy to a whopping ninety-five. Only a few points away from Shiro’s. The Constellation Cup would decide everything, once and for all. And although the next track, Nebula Cruise Station, was his favorite in the entire game, he wondered how well he’d actually do.   


As if she already knew, her hand blanketed his. “You’re gonna do great, even if you lose. Don’t get all scared on me now.”   


“Who said anything about being scared?” He gave her his own cheeky grin, reluctant to slip his hand away and back onto the joystick. It was nothing more than a paper-thin front, looking back on it.   


They readied themselves for Nebula Cruise Station. It was very much a space station, as the name implied. Its main road consisted of the Milky Way itself. The starting line perched them high atop a mountain-like meteor, riddled with craters twice the size of their karts. Flying in on a space shuttle, the referee began counting down from three. They revved their engines on the second mark, which gave them the boost needed to speed down the mountain. Shiro front flipped ahead of her, drifting to his left with a sharp turn. He skidded dangerously close to the edge so as to avoid a mob of falling stars and debris from inside the cave. Any of which would slow him down.   


Katie swerved around him, but not before nudging the side of his kart. The controller vibrated against his palm when she did. Onscreen, he spun out of control, if only for a moment. It gave her more than enough time to take the lead. Her mascot chortled along the way. She then used the booster pads to all but disappear behind the asteroids. Revenge was enacted upon her immediately, when she was in Shiro’s sights again. It had to be wrong, pelting your crush with explosive pink shells, a barrage of fireballs and letting a hungry potted plant chomp off her bumper. All was fair in love, war and _Grand Prix 7_ , he supposed.   


During the third lap, Shiro began to wonder where Katie was on the map. He already drove through the cavern, over the hang glider ramps, past the starry rainbow tunnel and through the station itself. Still no sign of her anywhere. Had he done it, after all? Had he really won this match against Warren Street’s finest gamer? It appeared so, yes! Beaming with triumph, he made his way up the side of the towering mountain. He took time in racing to the top, now that the competition was nowhere to be found. Even somersaulting off of the mini ramps, which he usually ignored. This was it, he’d thought. Nothing to stand in his way now. First place belonged to him. He could taste it. The sound of an oh-so-familiar mascot caught him by surprise, just then.   


In flew Katie on a wave of cosmic dust. Appearing from behind gastrous clouds and comets sailing alongside her. Realization hit him; she’d been taking a secret route designed for the track, all this time. As well as the many, cleverly hidden shortcuts programmed into the game. Shortcuts he’d forgotten all about. And now, she was floating a few inches above him. Her mascot outstretched its hand, tossing a banana peel in his direction. Try as he might to steer clear of her little gift, it proved futile. Shiro spun in a disastrous circle until his kart slid to the left of the mountain. Zero gravity lifted him away from the track, into the dark recesses of space and oncoming asteroid boulders. His controller made sure he knew this, too. Though he had been too busy watching himself get swallowed up by a  black hole to notice. Too much damage to recover from, so late in the race. The black hole spit him out sooner or later, but it didn’t matter. Katie had beaten him.   


She threw down the controller with a hollering whoop. Proceeding to do what could only be described as ‘The Katie Dance.’ Said dance consisted of fist pumping, bouncing from side to side and twirling around with her arms fanned out. Her braids swung so hard and so fast that anyone standing next to her would’ve gotten thwacked in the face with one of her massive silk bows. She did this long after the credits had rolled and returned to the game’s main menu. Most would’ve grown tired by now, but not her. “Can’t dethrone the queen, baby! Yeah!”   


Shiro stayed on the rug, clutching the controller she’d tossed. Gazing up at her in silent awe. He’d lost, but was more than happy to abandon his winning streak to her. If it meant never winning another video game in his life, he’d give it all up just for the chance to see her be this awesome. Alas, he couldn’t keep such sentiments to himself.   


“I could totally marry you, right now.”   


The Holt household went silent for a moment. Save for the hoots and jeers of Katie’s gloating. She seemed not to have heard him, thank God. Unfortunately, Matt had gotten an earful of his confession and continued to tease him endlessly for it from thereon in. “Hey, bud, when’s the wedding?” and “hope you’re this smooth at the reception” being some of his favorite taunts. The rest of the afternoon was foggy to Shiro, with only a few scenes depicting last-minute homework and more gaming to give him any clues. What he _did_ remember was declining Mrs. Holt’s invitation to stay for dinner. Having to sit across from Katie after that blunder would’ve ruined any appetite he might’ve had. The flashback skipped ahead to his aggravated young self, peddling home alone that following evening. He could only see the back of his neat and trimmed head, but the chastising nature of his muttered words was more than audible. Perhaps it was for the better that he couldn’t make them out. As his silhouette grew smaller and smaller, the sound of someone’s voice cut into his nostalgia. Like radio static, it barged in on the lonesome bike ride. It tried desperately to reach him. Blinding, hazy light engulfed the image while the voice grew louder and clearer.   


“...ad! Dad! Dad!” It called again.   


Shiro blinked a couple of times, enough to bring him right back to the current year and the comfort of Hiyori’s bedroom. He stared at his surroundings for a minute, utterly beside himself. Flashbacks like these could take him back decades, when they had a mind to. In his case, it would be about thirty-seven years. Yet it never felt as if he’d left, when it was all over. Nor that anything had changed. He looked down at his daughter, who was continuing to shake him out of it.   


“It happened again, didn’t it.” Hiyori confirmed rather than asked. “You went there… To the Bad Place.” She sniffled, tears of fright welling in her grey eyes.   


“No, sweetheart. Not this time,” Shiro answered, pulling her in for a well deserved hug.   


Hiyori wiped her face with her sleeve, smiling in relief. “Where did you go, then?”   


“Somewhere I haven’t been in a while. Somewhere nice,” he said. He never thought he’d see that place, again. The memories had been coming back in droves, as of late. But so far, only two could be considered negative. This was the best one out of all of them, however. One that needed to be talked about. Shiro knew exactly who to share it with. He stroked the top of Hiyori’s head. Her hair was growing out so long, like her mother’s used to be at one point. “Your brother should be home soon. Why don’t you let him take over, from here?” Laughter shook him. “I’m afraid your dad isn’t too useful with electronics.”   


“Okay. Thanks anyway,” Hiyori said. She nodded in understanding.   


Shiro wondered what he did to deserve a child like her, sometimes. Thanking his lucky stars for her patience, he left the room to try and find the person he needed to see right now. It was Friday, meaning that she could only be in one of two places. The car was still in their driveway, when he looked out of the kitchen window. Her coat still sat on the rack, next to her keys and purse. ‘Well, that appointment got canceled,’ he said to himself. Now he knew exactly where to find her. Shiro walked down the hallway, past the guest room and storage room. He passed by the second table that held up pictures of his two families and by the wall that displayed all of the medals received from their army days.   


Shiro came to a stop at a door towards the very end. It stood ajar, but he knew better than to just walk in without express permission. As per their agreement, Shiro knocked a couple of times. He could always tell when he was or wasn’t allowed in the study by her response. Anything along the lines of “major scientific crisis, right now!” or “almost!” meant that although she was busy, he wouldn’t be in too much trouble if he waited a few minutes before entering. Meanwhile, a wordless grunt or her getting up to fully close the door meant that she not only wanted privacy, but that her project was frustrating her to no end. He had to learn that one the hard way.   


This time, he didn’t hear anything afterward. Which was a sign that all was well and that she wouldn’t mind some company after pouring hours into her work. Invitation in hand, Shiro let himself in and left the study door open. He found her sitting at the desk grading thesis papers, with a towering stack on one end and a miniscule pile on the other. Not quite the paper trap he had to rescue her from last week, but still a fair bit of work for just one professor. Though he figured it was nice to see that she gave her TAs more frequent breaks. They never combed for as many details and errors as she did. Or so he was told.   


“Great minds _do_ think alike,” Pidge greeted, not even glancing up from her work as she graded her last paper for today and placed it atop the towering heap. “I was just going to come see you.” Her smile seemed tired when she finally met his gaze.   


Shiro tried to contain himself, while standing there. “Funny how that works, huh?” Most of his fidgeting stayed in his mechanical hand, the fingers opening and closing of their own accord.   


Pidge noticed this without having to call it out, as well as the look on his face. “Uh oh. What’s wrong? Is everything okay? And everyone? It’s not school related, is it? Tell me it’s not school. Like I need more of that on my plate, right now… Quiznak, it is. I know it is. What did Logan do, this time?”   


“Everything’s fine,” he replied when he could get a word in edgewise. “Actually, everything is wonderful.”   


Pidge watched him in between switching pairs of glasses. She observed him while he recounted all that he’d been through, a moment ago. Going from confused as to why he had sought her out if it wasn’t urgent, to full-on alert when she learned he was regaining even more of his memory. Pidge went to grab her notepad, so that she could jot it down with the others. Finally her face blossomed into a radiant, misty-eyed smile as she caught onto which memory Shiro was talking about. For a minute, she melted away twenty years off of her face. Looking as bubbly and sweet as the day they started dating. Real dates, here on earth. Not just floating around intergalactic pit stops with their hands held, moon-jumping as high as they could. Or lunching together while stranded on a hostile planet and calling it as such. Maybe one day soon, he would get back more of those memories.   


“You… You dorky old man,” she responded, once he finished. Her few joyful tears were absorbed by her sweater sleeve. “Of course you’d remember something like that. Really, only you would.” There was a hint of remorse in her voice, at the end. As if she were bitter about not having remembered it sooner.   


He would never dream of holding it against her. “A bit silly to get excited over, I know. But if I was going to go full nerd on someone, I figured you would make a decent victim.” Shiro threw in a wink for good measure.   


“Hey, I’ll take silly over rushed, poorly thought out thesis papers,” Pidge told him. “Come on, let’s talk about what other things you’ve been remembering lately.”   


They left the study with their hands entwined. They crossed paths with the table again. His eyes met those of his families’ as he did; his parents were smiling in approval, but Team Voltron were absolutely beaming with pride at them. Including the teenage versions of himself and Pidge. He wished they could’ve known then the happiness that they knew now. But something told him it would’ve turned out like this, war or no war. Shiro made a note to call his fellow paladins-of-old at some point this weekend. Just to see how everyone was doing. It’d been far too long. Only a week in between phone calls and visits to the Garrett-McClain household, but even that seemed like forever ago.   


They decided to have the rest of their conversation out on the veranda, getting cozy on the porch swing beside each other. The late afternoon sun was on the verge of setting but had a little ways to get there. Pidge had brought the notepad with her so that they could pick out their favorites of Shiro’s recalled memories. Shiro scooted closer to her until their shoulders touched, looking on. “Oh, that’s a good one,” he said as he pointed to a paragraph detailing the time they’d tried that Altean mind-reading exercise again. “Sorry about waking you up in the middle of the night for that one.”   


“I was awake anyway,” said Pidge. “Really, I’m just glad that this notepad was on the nightstand when you brought it up.” A dreamy smile stretched her lips. “Quiz, I _hated_ that thing the first time we had to use it. But it wasn’t so bad, after I started trusting everyone and letting them in.”   


“It came in pretty handy, I’d say,” Shiro said. “When it was just the two of us. I could tell you anything without having to actually say it.”   


Pidge hugged the pad to her chest. “Of all the things you could’ve used it for, you asked me to go steady… Again. ‘Let’s give us another try’ were your exact words.”   


“Aw man,” Shiro laughed, the embarrassment over his own cheesiness just now catching up to him. He scratched the back of his neck, below the undercut and man-bun. “It sucks that we still had to wait, though.” First he’d broken their Kerberos promise to get serious after he was due to come home, then he let himself be talked into breaking their second one. Although it was what she’d asked for, Shiro could never forget the look in her eyes. One that said she’d wanted to say yes, without hesitation.   


“Trust me, it was worth waiting for this time,” she said. Pidge pointed to another bullet. “This one’s probably my favorite.”   


He grinned as soon as he read it. On this day, he was doing everything in his power to channel the Guardian Spirit of the Skies. Everyone else on Team Voltron had gotten into contact with theirs. But Shiro had yet to hear from the one living and breathing inside of him. That is, until Pidge snuck into the hangar. “Did I ever tell you that you’re the best meditation buddy?” he asked her.   


“Only a million times,” she replied. “Who knew being so needy would help you awaken that spirit?”   


“You are _not_ needy,” he insisted while wrapping an arm around her.   


“I was being rather obnoxious that day, no reason to sugarcoat it,” Pidge said.   


Shiro still disagreed, but let her have this one and moved on. “It was an incredible moment. As soon as you got close enough to me and I closed my eyes, my body felt like it weighed nothing at all…” He pictured it, now that he could clearly see it in his mind. Levitating several feet off of the ground, gliding on air as if he’d sprouted wings like his Lion. Many times in his life since, Shiro had tried to get that same sensation from mundane things. Like skipping rope for his personal workout regime or bouncing on trampolines with his children. But he could never come as close to flying as he had when the Guardian Spirit awoke.   


“We achieved perfect lift off, all without the need for zero gravity or flight suits. No one on earth would’ve believed us if we’d told them. Remember how scared quizless I was? And how tight I held onto you?” She laughed at her own past freakout.   


“I’ve still got the claw marks to prove it,” he teased.   


That earned a hearty chuckle from both of them. Ringing out into the otherwise quiet suburb with their bliss. A few neighbors who were still out on their lawns and porches looked up from what they were doing. But the Shiroganes never paid them any mind. So far off were they in a distant land of of bygone times. They only stopped when Logan’s school bus dropped him off in front of the house. He seemed to be in a hurry, though not to do anything school-related of course. Helping his sister served as a perfect excuse to get out of whatever English homework he was shirking until the last minute, so he agreed to it and let his parents be.   


Shiro thanked Logan before picking out another memory. “Figures you’d have this one written down,” he said. His ears were tinted red.   


“I _had_ to, it was just too good to pass up,” Pidge said in her defense. “Besides, no one should ever forget that ‘patience yields focus’ is just your way of playing it cool around me.”   


He felt his ears turn even redder at her scarily accurate impression of him. “I-I mean, it didn’t start out that way.”   


“Probably not,” she agreed, “your excuse was that some commander drilled it into you while you were away. But I knew there had to be more to it. Especially whenever you would start spouting it off if I so much as looked at you.”   


He shook his head and smiled. “Then you ambushed me one day.”   


She rolled her eyes. “I did not. Well, alright. Maybe I _did_ corner you a little bit. But hey, at least we were at the park when no one else was.”   


“Didn’t make me look like less of a dork,” he said.   


“I thought it was adorable,” she argued, “really! ‘Okay, okay. I’m sorry. You’re just so pretty and smart a-and funny. I didn’t want to look like a quiz up in front of you.’”   


Why, oh why was she so good at impersonating him? “You never let me live it down, after that.”   


“Nope. You know what’s even more embarrassing than that, though?” Pidge asked.   


Shiro raised and eyebrow. “What?”   


Pidge pointed to another bullet with a wry smirk. “My quiznacking brother, walking in on us while we do it.”   


“God, we must’ve traumatized the poor guy,” Shiro recalled, able to see his face now.   


“Him? _I’m_ the victim, here. He saw my ass!” Pidge had to stifle her laughter behind her hand. “So much for a going away present.”   


“That’s how he found out we were a thing, too,” Shiro said.   


From there, they spent the rest of the day combing through Pidge’s treasure trove of memories. There was an entire section dedicated to one summer break in particular, where her family’s dog kept getting loose from their yard. Gunther, the bull terrier’s name was. He had the oddest fixation with the Shiroganes’ underwear and towels, but namely the former. Shiro knew because every time he’d see the terrier in his own yard, it was the first item to go missing. Then again, it wouldn't have been so easy for Gunther to grab these things if Shiro’s mom didn’t insist on hanging all of their laundry on washing lines like a nineteen-fifties housewife. Still, he supposed the dog deserved some credit. He probably wouldn’t have had the courage to talk to Pidge otherwise.   


Shiro chose another memory from their later teens. This one she still couldn’t recall personally, but he always would; his very drunk girlfriend, peddling down the castle corridors on a tricycle after getting into an unprotected case of Altean berry wine. In hindsight, he probably should’ve asked more questions about her purchases from their third trip to the space mall. Shiro remembered walking behind her in an amused daze, watching her for safety precautions. Too tired to catch her, allowing her to get away each time he tried. Pidge went around in God knows how many circles that night, all to the tune of her yelling, “quiz the police! Quiz the police!”   


They eventually looped back around to their childhoods, with the both of them reading a bullet about the time Shiro had broken his leg. A common occurrence for an athletic kid like him. This injury had especially bummed him out, so Pidge had decided to cheer Shiro up. Having just left the lunchroom for recess, she still had all of her markers and pens with her. They spent that half hour beneath the shade of an enormous oak tree, with his back up against the trunk for support. He watched her scribble all over the fiberglass bandages, decorating them with constellations, little green men, superheroes they adored and a host of other nerdy things. She even threw in a few of her favorite Tesla quotes. But not before attempting to fit in the entirety of Pi, of course. Shiro had closed his eyes for only a tick, when he smelled a strawberry-scented marker.   


Opening them just a bit, he saw that he’d been right. Pidge had taken out a strawberry marker from her giant box of stationery. She was using it to draw big, candy red heart. He remembered complimenting the doodle, which must’ve scared her. Because she then scrambled to cover up her masterpiece with more stars and mini UFOs. It was of no use, however. The heart was plain as day to see from where he was sitting. He attended the rest of his classes with the widest, toothiest grin. Hobbling everywhere with the scent of watermelons, limes, grapes, blue raspberries, lemons and oranges wafting off of him. And of course, that powerful hit of strawberries. She never did finish coloring it in. Every time he would ask her about the unfinished doodle, she’d freeze up, pretend she didn’t know what he meant and excuse herself.   


By the time they landed on the most recent bullet point, the sun was dipping further below the horizon. The neighbors had long since retreated into their homes, leaving the block peacefully quiet. The only sounds to break the silence were the soft creaks from the porch swing as it rocked back and forth. And the digitized sound effects coming from Hiyori’s bedroom window. Shiro silently congratulated Logan on a job well done. His children’s excited chatter faded into the background as Pidge went over the memory again.   


“I never thought you’d get this one back,” she said. “To be honest, I’d tried to bury it, too. It doesn’t help the homesickness, you know?”   


“Makes sense. But I’m guessing that means you heard what I said, then?” Shiro asked.   


Pidge shook her head. “Not until you left. Matt told me after dinner, when I was already in my room. At least he had the decency to wait until I could scream into a pillow or something.”   


Another person he would have to call, when he got the chance. Or rather, maybe it was time to have Matt over for another visit. If they weren’t caught up in their own schedules, having all three of his in-laws stop by would be great. “Remind me to pay him back for that one,” Shiro joked.   


“Will do,” she said. “We had some pretty good times, huh?”   


“Not just good times,” he replied. He cupped her cheek in one hand, easing her head up to look at him. “Those days spent with you were the best ones of my life, Katie.” He didn’t really call her by that name anymore. Only saving it for special occasions, using it so sparingly that it became a term of endearment. Never to be dropped when the situation didn’t call for it. Shiro studied his wife’s face while he had it in his hands. Its heart shape was beginning to lose elasticity, the brow engraved with a few worry lines. Her laugh lines were getting harder to ignore as time went on. Her thin lips were receding more and more each day. None of these things could make her any less beautiful to him. Nor take away the one feature the would never fade with age: her gold-hazel eyes. As long as those stayed the same, she’d always captivate him. Even if they were framed by crow’s feet. “Sometimes, I wish we could go back. Just start all over and turn out like a normal family.”   


For the longest time, Pidge was quiet. She kept those warm eyes on him while he aired out his regrets, then looked away at his mention of their family. It appeared that she was contemplating something beyond what he’d said. “They really were great, but honestly? I think we’re just as good as normal. Maybe even a little better.” 

“How do you figure that?” asked Shiro.   


“Think about it,” Pidge answered. She straightened up in her seat when he lowered his hand from her face. “We may not have the biggest house on the block, sure,” she said while gesturing toward the neighborhood. “It’s not full of kids, either. And maybe we don’t live as large as Mr. & Mrs. New Altea up there.” Her finger pointed at the pink and orange sky, trying to pinpoint where she thought Keith and Allura’s kingdom might be. “But I’ve got a career I love. I had two of the most brilliant, loving children anyone could ever ask for.” She stole a glance at them from Hiyori’s window with a smile on her face. “I wake up every day knowing all three of my families are alive and that those kids are going to grow up loved by all of them. The best part, though?” Pidge took Shiro’s hand and enveloped it in both of hers. “I married one of my closest friends.”   


Shiro could’ve melted into a puddle, right there on that swing. At the same time, they moved in for a kiss. Just as tender and warming as always. When he closed his eyes, Shiro imagined he was kissing a soft, overripe peach. Though if he told her she was just as sweet, she’d snark him into an early grave. Best to keep that one to himself.   


Pidge pulled away for air. “Oh, and me and that close friend saved the universe together. So we can add that to the ‘We Got It Good’ List.”   


“That helps, too,” Shiro agreed. “Not too many others have that going for them.”   


Shiro and Pidge sat on the swing until the sun disappeared and cast their neighborhood block in moonlight. He basked in the last few rays, as well as those good vibes he got to share with her, each waking day.   


**Author's Note:**

> An enormous thank you to kali_asleep for beta reading and working with me to make this great. You're amazing! 
> 
> Yes, I'm very well aware that the dog had a name change. 'Gunther' is just a name I prefer.


End file.
